Robin Hobb, who has a new collection coming out in April, has updated her blog on what happens when she disconnects from the Interwebs. Writers, take heed! Here’s the beginning of her post:
Some of you may have noticed that I haven’t posted much since the middle of December. And if we are email correspondents, you may have not received replies to friendly notes and greetings you sent me over the holidays.
My deadline for my book was December 31, 2010. I was extremely confident and determined to be on time. I worked consistently on the book every day, and I should have been on time.
Well, I wasn’t. I turned the manuscript over to my agent yesterday, 13 days late. That is NOT a nice thing to do to publishers and editors. I am abashed.
But, prior to all that, in mid-December I realized that the only possible way to make my deadline was to eliminate distractions and write. Family Christmas, of course, does not fall on the distraction list, but random web activities do. So, for the most part, I disconnected from the Internet and wrote. And wrote and wrote.
Alleluia! What a wonderful experience! Suddenly my output increased. Scenes had more coherency, dialogue flowed as if people were actually talking to one another. I really felt like I was in that world, with those characters. That is what happens when I can write in 4 to 6 hour blocks of time, with no little ‘pings’ coming up on my screen. I’d removed myself to a place where my laptop could not reach the outside world at all, and even though I was writing on a cramped laptop keyboard, the words just kept coming. It took me back to the Megan Lindholm days when writing was something I did in the dark hours of the night, all alone in a very chilly little office with only the stereo softly playing in the background. I was mostly broke in a rundown old house in a very rural area. So I started hanging out with a couple of imaginary fellows. When I remember those days, it actually feels as if Fitz were standing over my shoulder commenting on every keystroke, and the Fool was perched up on top of the ancient Maytag washing machine mocking our efforts. (Oh. Not every writer has her office in the laundry room? Well, I did.) When I recall those days, I feel like I am looking at an old fashioned Christmas card. I would get up from my desk and pad quietly into the kitchen to brew a cup of tea in the dark. Then I would go back to where the desk lamp and the computer screen were the only illumination. There is a sentimental glow that surrounds that old beat-up army surplus desk, the Kaypro computer and the black cat sleeping beside it.
Read the rest of this post on Robin’s website. [and wouldn’t you love to have the Fool perched somewhere in your house – we would – not to mention Fitz standing behind us … ]
Robin’s new collection, The Inheritance, will be released in Australia and New Zealand in April this year.
Bingtown heiresses rub shoulders in this wonderful collection with vampires and alien musicians, tramps and feral cats.
In The Homecoming, Lady Carillion Carrock and a number of other Jamaillian nobles are sailing to the Cursed Shores. Their journey is not by choice: for plotting against the Satrap, their wealth has been confiscated and they have been exiled. Until now, Carillion has done nothing but lead a life of privilege. She believes they are bound for wondrous cities, cities where ancient kings and queens dusted their skin with gold and wore jewels above their eyes. But when she is marooned by the ship’s unscrupulous captain, she will soon discover the grim reality of what survival in the Rain Wilds entails.
The Silver Lady is a would-be writer, ekeing out a dull existence by working in a Sears store. The one day a man comes in: fortyish, pleasant-looking. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except he says his name is Merlin, and he’s about to change her life.
Rosemary got involved with the wrong man. Pell is lazy, good for nothing, a bully. Her best friend Hilia knew it and so did her tom cat, Marmalade. But love is blind: Rosemary had Pell’s baby, renovated the cottage his grandfather left in his will, turned its land to good use; and then he left her for another woman. Now he’s back, and something must be done …
And that’s just a snippet of what to look forward to …